“It’s already rare for someone to have more than one,” Monika continued, unfazed. “And on top of that, it’s a relapse. Cases like this can be dangerous.”
The situation was beginning to feel ominous. Quite ominous. In fact, the state of things at Tobi’s school had felt ominous for some time now. Tobi had just taken a very long time to realize it.
Tobi had only recently learned what zingai were called. That didn’t mean much, though—there were plenty of things he was aware of but didn’t know the name for. He didn’t have to be aware that a short wall surrounding a rooftop was called a parapet to understand that they existed. Stuff like that was all around him, and he didn’t think anything of it. Tobi wasn’t uncurious exactly, but he didn’t see each and every nameless thing as a mystery he needed to solve.
Maybe he’d felt that way about zingai partly because he’d thought only he could see them. They were a part of his world and his alone. He was sure that the world he saw, felt, and sensed was different from the ones everyone else experienced. But he’d been wrong.
“…Should we know anything else about, umm—about ‘relapses’?” Tobi asked. Maybe he’d spoken too quietly for Monika to hear. Either way, she didn’t respond.
Ryuuko was still peering into Class 2-1, staring intently at Hiiragi’s zingai. “To be honest, her butterflies…are a little cute, aren’t they? Their coloration is lovely.”
Tobi had thought the butterflies were black at first, but on closer inspection, he saw that they had a blue stripe-like pattern on their wings. He wasn’t sure he’d describe them as cute, but they were pretty.
“You can’t judge these things by appearances,” Monika muttered.
Barely a moment after she spoke, the butterflies began moving away from Hiiragi’s shoulder. The two zingai flew off in separate directions, each landing on one of the girls standing nearby. One alighted on the nape of the girl with shorter hair, while the other stopped on the left ear of the girl with longer hair. They slowly flapped their wings, putting that vivid blue stripe atop the black background on full display. At last, they spread their wings wide open and stopped moving.
“…Ugh,” the short-haired girl groaned as she sat down in a nearby chair. “I’m so sleepy. Feels like I need an after-lunch nap.”
“Me too,” the long-haired girl replied. She sat down as well. “I’m, like, wiped. Aren’t afternoon classes a real pain in the ass?”
“I wanna go home,” the short-haired girl moaned as she slumped forward onto the desk in front of her. “I’ve felt crappy since this morning. I think something’s wrong with me…”
“Are you all right?” Hiiragi asked, patting the short-haired girl on the back.
“Hey, did you see that?” Baku hissed, twisting his body to the side.
The sensation Tobi had felt when he reached into Asamiya’s desk and grabbed Chiami Kon’s zingai sprang back into his mind. Suddenly, he was hungry. He’d only just eaten lunch, so there was no way he needed to eat again, but he felt famished all the same. This wasn’t his hunger—it was Baku’s. Tobi was experiencing Baku’s voracious desire to feed.
Just then, Itoha turned around. The look on her face as she glanced toward the back of the classroom seemed somehow lonesome. She noticed Ryuuko and raised a hand, smiling as she gave her a hesitant wave.
“Ah…” Ryuuko raised both of her hands and waved back. Her whole body bounced ever so slightly with each wave—and just as she was up on her toes at the peak of the motion, Monika pushed her from behind. For a moment, it looked like Ryuuko would topple forward, but she just barely kept her balance. “Huh…?”
Ryuuko glanced back at Monika, who simply jerked her chin toward the classroom. She seemed to be saying, Get in there.
“Uh? Er… Umm,” Ryuuko babbled.
Ultimately, she turned back around and took a few faltering steps into the room. Eventually, she made up her mind and headed for Hiiragi. Tobi heard them say, “It’s been ages,” and then the two struck up a conversation.
At that point, the zingai butterflies took flight again, lifting off the other girls in unison.
“Those zingai,” Monika said under her breath. “I think they might be on guard.” She licked her lips.
The butterfly zingai didn’t fly around at random. They went right back to Hiiragi, landing on her hair. They almost looked like a pair of butterfly-shaped hairpins.
“Even if their master’s not aware of them, zingai can sense when other zingai are around,” Monika explained.
“Hey, Monika.” Tobi rubbed his stomach. Baku still wanted to eat the butterfly zingai but was silently enduring the craving. He knew what would happen if he went through with it. He and Tobi both did.
“Hmm? What?”
“You said you wanted to look into that girl, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What happens when you’re finished?”
“What do you think?”
“You’re dodging the question.”
“Well, then,” said Monika, sounding irritated. “Are you being totally honest with me?”
“…Huh?”
“Will you be completely honest and tell me everything?”
Tobi couldn’t answer. Could he tell anyone everything? What about Ryuuko? He didn’t know. He definitely had things he hadn’t yet shared with anyone else.
“Everyone has stuff they don’t want to talk about—and stuff they can’t talk about,” said Monika. “Everyone. Don’t you agree?”
“…You said you wanted us to help you.”
Tobi couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t treat her with the same openness as he did Ryuuko. And yet he didn’t want to reject her out of hand, either.
“Are you sure you’re not just using us?”
Ryuuko had agreed to help without a second thought, and Tobi was worried about her. He had to keep an eye on her. That was part of what was motivating him—but it probably wasn’t the whole picture.
Monika averted her gaze for a few seconds, then turned back and looked Tobi straight in the eye. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you.”
Monika Asahi wasn’t an honest person. If anything, she was a liar.
“After all,” she said, “Ryuuko, at least, is my friend.”
But she wasn’t the sort of person who’d betray her friends. Tobi believed that, though he wasn’t sure why.